


Gluttony

by imissmaeberry



Series: Forgive Me Father [1]
Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Demons, Anaphylaxis, Angst, F/M, Memory Loss, Mind Manipulation, Nightmares, Paranoia, Psycho-Physical Manipulation, Seven Deadly Sins, Vomiting, forced eating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-02
Updated: 2018-12-02
Packaged: 2019-09-05 19:23:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16816894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imissmaeberry/pseuds/imissmaeberry
Summary: some monsters like to play with their food





	Gluttony

**Author's Note:**

> owo what's this??? something that isn't smut OR fluff???? that's right yall i'm capable of many many things
> 
> so welcome to Forgive Me Father: a series exploring the members of Seventeen as agents of chaos and sin and ruin, most of which will reflect one of the seven cardinal sins
> 
> i hope you all enjoy~

you pull your jacket closer around your shoulders, clutching the bag of takeout tightly in your hand, shoulders hunched to appear smaller.

the chinese restaurant isn’t even in a bad part of town. you don’t have any dark backstreets or narrow alleys between the door of your apartment and the door of the restaurant.

but there’s something in your stomach telling you to be on alert. something inside of you telling you that something dark is lurking in the shadows.

as you make your way into the building, you can’t shake the feeling that you’re being watched.

* * *

you’re not sure how or why you receive the invitation to the opening of the restaurant. it’s new, and flashy, and well out of your price range. but it has your name on it, and everything will be paid for, so who are you to deny a night of free food you’d never afford on your own?

the maître d takes your invitation and escorts you to your table, a smaller table up on the restaurant's second floor. you try your best not to stare at the opulent decor as you take your seat and are assured your waiter will be with you shortly.

you notice that the table is set for two.

your waiter comes and goes, informing you of the night’s specials and filling your wine glass.

you’ve finished half of it when you hear the voice for the first time.

“i hope you’ll forgive me for being late.”

your eyes follow the tall figure of a man as he rounds your table and takes the empty seat across from you. his skin is tanned and his hair is nearly white, and he smiles at you as he folds his hands and lays them on the table.

he’s so beautiful it’s almost unsettling.

“i didn’t know i should be expecting company.” you say, raising your eyebrows. you sip at your wine and fold your own hands together. “so, if i may ask, were you also surreptitiously invited to this opening, or are you well-connected enough to purposely be put on the list?”

"you could say i pulled some strings to be here." the cold tone of his voice doesn't reach the too-wide smile on his face. "my name is mingyu, by the way. it seemed you weren't going to ask."

you fight the blush rising on your cheeks and insist otherwise, indignant that he's assumed you to be ill-mannered. "my name is-"

he cuts you off by pulling your name from his own lips, letting it roll too-easily off of his tongue. your body goes cold and stiff and you look at him with alarm poorly hidden on your face.

he laughs at your reaction and points to the namecard sitting in front of your wine glass, and motions to his own as well.

you distinctly remember them not previously being on the table, and your skin begins to crawl.

the waiter comes by again, followed by two more, serving trays laden with the most decadent looking food you've ever seen. you fight to keep your mouth from visibly watering as the waiter sets plate after plate onto the table until there's no table left to be seen.

the waiter stands frozen as mingyu inspects each plate, his dark eyes scrutinizing. mingyu nods, and the waiter visibly relaxes, shooting you a fearful look before quickly departing.

"this is quite a bit of food, isn't it?" you ask, eyes scanning and noticing multiples of the same few dishes. "that seems odd for a restaurant just opening."

"less for others to eat." mingyu says simply, eyes boring into yours as he starts into the pasta that's closest to him.

"isn't the phrase 'more for me'?" you ask, voice suddenly quiet. something about the way he watches you sends fear crawling under your skin.

"if that's what i wanted to say, i would have said it." his tone is dark and nearly menacing, and somehow in the few seconds since starting his first plate he's already made it to his third, and you can't seem to fathom how he's done so.

but there are two empty plates beside his wine glass to stand testament.

you stay silent and manage to pick at your own plate, barely able to enjoy the taste of it for the way fear and nerves coat your tongue.

the waiter continues to bring mingyu food. continues to give you a worried, fear filled glance every time he leaves the table. you look around to wonder if anyone else finds mingyu's behavior strange. unsettling.

but you find that you can't even see the other tables. only darkness.

you try to stand, to run away, and find yourself unable to. you try to scream. you can't.

"aren't you hungry?" mingyu asks, mouth full of meat. you wonder why you never noticed how sharp his canine teeth are: pointed in an eerie, inhuman way.

you find yourself able to speak again, but only certain words will push out in response to his words.

"yes, i am." you're not. you couldn't possibly eat more. fear has shrunk your stomach.

"then eat. less for others to have, right?" the look he fixes you with implies a secret, something only the two of you know. his smirk implies the same.

your body moves of its own accord, hand gripping your fork too hard as it moves from your plate to your forced-open mouth. the pattern continues until finally, what feels like months later, it ends.

the sounds from the other patrons returns first. you hear music and idle chatter and then the darkness recedes. when you draw your attention away from your surroundings and back to the man across from you, he's gone and your stomach feels like bursting and so do your eyes.

the waiter, the same poor waiter who had been drawn into the hellish limbo with you, does not return to the table. another comes by and apologizes.

"you see, ma'am," the new waiter tells you, "he seemed to be having....some sort of panic attack. we had someone take him home. but he kept insisting that i check on your table. have you found everything satisfactory?"

you look up at the new waiter and you begin to cry. you force yourself from the table and out onto the street, wondering if you'll ever feel able to breathe again.

once you're home and your doors are triple checked to be locked, you throw your dress away and scrub yourself raw in the shower, desperate to cleanse yourself of what had transpired.

when you finally force yourself to fall asleep, you dream of him.

well, it's more of a nightmare. and you're not sure how you know it's him, when you've been swallowed by red light and all you can see are glowing eyes and ungodly long limbs moving in front of you, the glint of something sharp. but you know. you know.

* * *

you wake up with the smell and taste of rot clinging to your senses, a pounding headache and a vague memory of a man you shouldn't trust.

you move about your apartment, go about your day, wondering what you could have possibly done the night before to have lost a whole chunk of your day. you remember being seated at your table, and everything after that is gone. all the time between is filled up by a strange, painful darkness lingering at the back of your mind, warning you not to push any farther.

you chalk it up to too much wine at dinner, which you’ve been known to do on occasion, and move on. you’re too busy in the coming week with a presentation at work to even think about thinking about anything else.

too busy to dwell on the fact that whenever you leave your apartment, you feel as though you aren’t alone, as if something is following along with you from the shadows, invisible and menacing.

too busy to pay attention to where you’re walking, apparently, which causes you to run into someone and spill your coffee not only on you, but on - you look up to apologize, and find yourself looking into the broad chest of a man. you look up further, and find that this man is ethereal, features chiseled and eyebrows pinched in annoyance at the ruination of his shirt.

you stumble over your words, “i’m so, so so so so sorry. i - i’m waiting on an email from my boss, and i wasn’t paying any attention, and -”

“yeah, no shit, you weren’t.” his tone is cold and sharp and you recoil. he sighs, a loud frustrated noise, more of a huff than anything else. he looks you up and down and a smirk finds its way onto his face. “but i think i might know how you can make it up to me.”

you look up at him, eyes shining. you feel a strange need to please him, and you can’t tell if it’s because you ruined his very expensive looking shirt or because of how beautiful he is. or maybe it’s something else. “of course! i feel awful about your shirt.”

“why don’t you let me take you to dinner?”

you nod, butterflies swimming in your stomach, fighting the blush rising to your cheeks. “absolutely! let me give you my number, oh, and my name is -”

he interrupts you by saying it himself, and you blush despite yourself, confused. he points to your coffee cup where your name is emblazoned with thick sharpie.

“my name is mingyu.” he tells you, smile full of bright white teeth and sharp canines. “how do you feel about seafood?”

you meet mingyu for your date the saturday following, for all you know, your first encounter. when he’d suggested seafood, you’d recommended a restaurant you’d been to more times than you could count. he’d agreed and given you a time, telling you he’d meet you there.

you get there early, heart pounding in excitement - you think - and text mingyu to let him know you’re going to go ahead and secure a table. you let the waiter take your drink order, opting for wine, and you wait. in the last few days you’ve wondered just why mingyu wouldn’t just ask for you to pay for his dry cleaning, but you’re not exactly in a position to be turning down dates from incredibly handsome men.

“i hope you’ll forgive me for being late.” you look up from your phone to see mingyu rounding the table to take his seat and join you. “have you ordered yet?”

“no, no, i wanted to wait for you, of course. are you hungry?”

he smiles. “i’m starved.”

everything goes pretty well until the food shows up. when the waiter is followed by a team of two others, carrying multiple plates of food and laying them down until you can’t see the table.

“excuse me, we didn’t order -” you start, but find your words cut off. you try again, only to find yourself truly unable to speak.

mingyu thanks the waiter and he leaves you, but not without a worried glance over his shoulder. mingyu digs in, then looks up at you. you haven’t moved an inch, your body frozen in panic as you find yourself unable to speak. “what are you waiting for?” he asks. you notice immediately that he’s eating something different now, an empty plate sitting next to his elbow. “you should eat.”

“you’re right.” the words sound strange coming out of your mouth, largely because you’d had no intention of making them. you try to speak again, but you can’t, and your hands begin to shake.

“i said, you should eat.” his voice is cold and harsh and loud, and your body moves on its own, hand gripping your utensils too-hard and forcing food into your mouth.

you take your eyes off of him to glance around you, to see if any of the other patrons find mingyu’s behavior strange. unsettling. but wherever you look, wherever your eyes land, you only find darkness. you continue eating, and mingyu smirks at you.

suddenly, your body feels hot. too hot. your mouth and hands begin to tingle, and you feel wrong - a different wrongness from the way mingyu has been making you feel. a sort of wrong that has your throat swelling and your eyes going wide as you look to mingyu for help, desperate to make this stop.

but mingyu is gone. you’re alone, there at your table, and suddenly the darkness has disappeared and people are shouting as your body fights to breathe. your vision goes hazy, and the last thing you hear before it goes entirely dark is the sound of a siren.

when you open your eyes, you’re lying in a hospital bed. your vision is bleary, clouded, and there is a nurse standing over your bed. she smiles at you sweetly, softly telling you she’ll be back with the doctor, but that you’re absolutely fine.

the doctor comes in and helps you sit up as the nurse hands you a glass of water.

“how are you feeling?”

your body is sore all over, and your throat hurts in ways you’ve never experienced. you sip slowly at the water before you answer. “i’ve definitely been better. what....what happened? i can’t...remember anything.”

“your body went into anaphylactic shock. the strange thing is that we tested you for other allergies, as well as the seafood you’d eaten, and everything came back negative.”

you blink. “that’s because i’m not allergic to seafood. i’ve eaten at that restaurant like, a hundred times.” you turn your head and see a bouquet of flowers, turning to the nurse, “who sent these?”

“there wasn’t a tag.” she says. “they’re awfully pretty though, aren’t they?”

you feel so tired. your body hurts and you just want to sleep. you don’t understand why you can’t remember anything between sitting down at the restaurant and collapsing. your memory is full of holes, and when you try to think back farther it hurts, and leaves you gasping out in pain. you try to steady your breathing, eyes clamped shut.

your body succumbs to sleep, and your mind succumbs to horror.

you dream of water, of it filling your lungs, of pressure forcing pain into your bones.

you dream of red eyes, and sharp teeth, surrounded by a monster with too-long limbs.

you dream of the monster following you as you try to get away. always hovering, red eyes staring, following your every move. you try to scream, but you can’t. you want to beg for it to leave you alone, but it seems as if the monster enjoys tormenting you.

you wake with a gasp, the taste of rot on your tongue. you lean over the hospital bed in search for a trash can, vomiting the little contents left in your stomach. it ends up coming up mostly water.

you check out of the hospital and go home, and find yourself unable to shake the unease that settles deep within your bones. every time you close your eyes you’re haunted by visions of sharp teeth and red eyes. you’re barely able to sleep.

you find it difficult to leave your apartment. whenever you do, you feel as though there are eyes you can’t see tracking your every movement.

you find it easiest to do things in the early morning light, when the sun is bright and blinding in the sky.

it’s a morning like that when you decide to venture out to buy groceries. your shelves at home are miserably bare, and you can’t afford to keep eating only takeout.

you pull your jacket closer around your shoulders, hunching to appear smaller, to blend in to your surroundings.

but unfortunately, this plan doesn’t work the way you hope it will, evidenced in the way someone taps your shoulder from behind you, calling your name. you turn around to see a man towering over you, a man with chiseled features and a bright white smile, canine teeth erring on the side of inhumanly sharp.

your memory is like a fuzzy old tv channel - full of static and bad noise. seeing him feels bad, but you can't bring yourself to remember why. Looking at him simultaneously makes your head hurt and your heart flutter - but you can’t figure out why.

"do i know you from somewhere?" you ask, tilting your head so you only have to look at him from the corner of your eye. there is a dark, dark feeling clawing at the back of your mind.

“wow, i guess the date went that bad, huh?” he laughs and it’s - something about it is off. it doesn’t sound right. something about it is hollow and wrong, just like the butterflies that swim through your chest.

“i - i’m so sorry, did we really….?” you can’t bring yourself to finish. you can’t even remember the last time you went on a date. “how rude of me.” you giggle mostly out of nerves and try to push your grocery cart past him.

“why don’t you make it up to me?” he asks, coming around to stand in front of your cart, and you feel torn - you want to please him for some strange reason, but something is telling you this is a mistake. you should not be speaking to him.

“i - i don’t know…” there are alarms blaring in your heart and in your mind, and you think that you should probably listen to the one time they seem to agree.

“oh, come on now.” something flashes in his eyes, and you feel yourself grow calm.

“well, i guess it couldn’t hurt…” you smile up at him, shy, and tuck hair behind your ear.

his grin as he takes your number reminds you something of a wolf, predatory and starving.

“why don’t you let me take you to dinner?"

**Author's Note:**

> pls PLEASE come talk to me about this series on tumblr it's my Baby [@blushyseokcheol](https://blushyseokcheol.tumblr.com)


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